


Wednesday

by Tirnel



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Gen, It's wednesday, on wednesday i kick grell sutcliff, songfic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6407542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tirnel/pseuds/Tirnel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Wednesday....</p><p>Based on William's character song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wednesday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vivianmagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivianmagic/gifts).



> Thanks to vvlin for posting all those Kuromyu pics, gifs, and what nots. (Especially Grelliam) This fic was partially inspired by the Will kicking Grell gif I see a lot on my dash, which I love.

 

Something was missing this day in the life of William T. Spears, but for the life if him he could not figure out what. More than half the day was gone, most of the paperwork was completed, and yet there was something he had not done, some task he had not finished. He ran over the week’s schedule in him mind to figure it out.

 

Monday he had reaped souls in a depressing rain. Tuesday he had had a meeting with the management team then scolded the rule violators. Their ill behavior reflected on him. Both days had gone as expected, nothing out of the ordinary. Tomorrow he would wear a pure white starched shirt as everyday and if things went as they always did, work overtime. Friday he needed to select a new necktie. His current tie was getting rather worn and there were stains on it, though they were hard to see. First, though, he had souls to retrieve on that same day. Saturday he would watch cinematic records in the morning and in the evening, he would hunt down those demon eyesores. The less of them were about, the better.

 

Well that didn’t help him to remember.

 

It mattered what was missing for any deviations were unforgivable. It would create an imbalance and his schedule would crumble. Ripped, torn, and soiled and he would have to work overtime in effort to correct his oversight.

 

Without further ado, William checked the calendar to see if he had penciled in anything for the day. Wednesday…ah, he needed to summon the death gods that work in dispatch. How could he forget? It was a weekly meeting, but surely, this wasn’t the only thing he was forgetting. No, it was something else, but he might as well take care of this meeting now. He summoned those who were not out currently collecting souls. They would gather later and hear what he had to say later. There was really only one thing he needed to talk to them about today.

 

The reasons for the meetings varied from week to week. The Board had insisted upon them meeting once a week and William had chosen Wednesday as it was typically his least busy day. The Board had also insisted that at least one of these weekly meeting be devoted to giving the dispatch officers a pep talk (William thought this pointless, but rules were rules). Thankfully, it was not one of _those_ weeks. Other meetings might contain changes to the dispatch guidelines and rulebook, see how each agent was getting along with their collections, make sure all scythes were up to regulation standards, review the dress code.

 

Then there were days like today. The meeting provided William with a perfect opportunity to carry out a request from above. The reapers arrived, Grell Sutcliff sauntering in last with his hips swaying in attempts to attract William’s attention no doubt, though his face spoke of extreme boredom. William wasn’t sure if it was because he thought these meetings a pointless bother or he was trying to play ‘hard to get’ in attempts to woo William. Neither mattered to William.

 

“The reason for today’s meeting,” began William, “is because there is a new serial killer in London.” There were a few murmurs and uneasy glances in Grell’s general direction, but no one said anything outright, except of course Grell.

 

“You can all relax, it’s not me. Go on a killing spree _one_ time and everyone gets suspicious,” he muttered.

 

“They are calling him the ‘Phantom Killer’,” continued William, “And before the Administrative Department assign the case to someone, the Board would like to know if there are any volunteers. They would like for two agents to handle it.”

 

“Oh!” Grell stuck his hand up in the air as high as it could go, waving it wildly and shouting with excitement. “You and I could do it, Will!”

 

“Absolutely not,” William answered stiffly, “Primarily because of the last time you were assigned to handle a case like this, you _assisted_ the serial killer in their murders.”

 

“But if you partner with me, I would _have_ to behave, darling~.”

 

“The answer is no…and I am not your darling. Anyone else?” Alan Humphries and Eric Slingby tentatively raised their hands. “Very well. If there are no further questions, you may be dismissed…back to work everyone.” The assembled reapers filed out of the room except for Grell, who sidled up next to William. “Everyone includes you, Sutcliff.” Having finished the only thing on his calendar, William still felt unsatisfied with his day, but he was beginning to get an idea of what it might be that he needed to do.

 

“Just a little smooch before I go? There doesn’t have to be tongue.”

 

“No,” William said in a firm tone.

 

“Just one eensy, weensy, little smooch?” Grell begged, drawing closer and puckering up.

 

William raised his foot off the ground and delivered a swift, solid kick which sent Sutcliff crumpling to the floor. “I said, ‘no’.”

 

“Ow, Will, what was that for?”

 

William adjusted his spectacles, feeling satisfied and his day complete. “It’s Wednesday.”


End file.
